


A Late Christmas Present

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Caring, Coffee, Espresso Machines, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Love, Mild Smut, One Shot, Presents, Romance, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sappy, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, olicity - Freeform, oliver loves felicity so damn much, too much caffeine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: When Oliver and Felicity’s friends send their wedding gift back to them, the two of them feel quite differently about it. Oliver tamps down his frustrations in an effort to make Felicity feel better, and together, the two of them turn an unpleasant situation on its head. Rated M for non-explicit sex.





	A Late Christmas Present

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by a series of tweets. The ArrowWritersRoom posted a dialogue tease for 6x10 (“Looks like we’re getting a late Christmas present”) to which someone jokingly guessed “Oliver to Felicity when they open up the returned espresso machine.” I changed the line up a bit and give it to Felicity, but it’s close enough. ;)
> 
> This is equal parts cute, fluffy, obnoxiously sappy, kind of funny, a teensy bit smutty, and a little bit bitter. I didn’t think it would be bitter at all, but then stuff happened yesterday and I worked in a bit of bitter I hadn’t planned on. But the bitterness is really an afterthought, because Oliver always knows how to make Felicity feel better, and that’s what this is about.
> 
> Enjoy!

**A Late Christmas Present**

 

It’s around 2pm on the first Friday of the new year, and Oliver’s helping Felicity move the last of her things into his apartment (he actually managed to get out of the office early so he could help her). The two of them have just started making space in the entertainment center for Felicity’s movie collection when the doorbell rings.

 

“Are we expecting someone?” Felicity asks, and Oliver frowns.

 

“Not that I know of.”

 

He moves to answer the door, glancing out of the peephole to find a delivery man holding a large box.

 

“What is it, hon?” Felicity asks, stepping up beside him.

 

“A package,” Oliver says, beckoning her back from the door. “Are you expecting anything?”

 

“No,” Felicity answers as she steps behind him.

 

Oliver opens the door cautiously.

 

“Yes?” he asks the man standing on the other side.

 

“Afternoon, Mr. Queen. I have a package for you and a Mrs. Smoak.”

 

“I didn’t order anything, and neither did my wife.”

 

“It’s from a Mr. and Mrs. Bartholomew Allen in Central City.”

 

“Ohhhh, Barry and Iris?” Felicity asks, gazing around Oliver to look at the box. “I wonder what it could be. They already sent us a wedding gift.” 

 

Oliver shakes his head as he signs for the package, then takes it from the delivery man with a courteous “thank you,” before closing the door behind him.

 

“I don’t know, hon. I guess we’ll have to open it and find out,” Oliver teases.

 

“Harhar,” Felicity mocks, shaking her head with a smile. She follows Oliver to the kitchen island, where he sets down the package. “Maybe it’s a late Christmas present?”

 

“Didn’t they already send us one of those?” Oliver asks as he starts to open the plain brown box.

 

“Oh, yeah. Wasn’t it a gift card for that new Italian restaurant downtown?”

 

“Uh huh,” Oliver says distractedly as he reaches into the box and pulls out a purple notecard, handing it to her. Felicity opens the card just as Oliver pulls a second box out of the delivery box and sets it on the counter.

 

“It’s...the espresso machine we sent them for their wedding,” Oliver announces, staring at it in confusion.

 

“Oh,” Felicity responds simply, and her tone gives Oliver pause. He turns to Felicity and finds her staring down at the card in her hand, an unreadable expression on her face. 

 

“What’s it say?” Oliver asks, but she just shakes her head and hands it to him, staring with disappointment at the box containing the espresso machine. Oliver’s heart aches for her, and he feels her pain as if it’s his own. He reads the short note written on the inside of the Thank You Card.

 

_ Dear Oliver and Felicity, _

 

_ Thank you very much for your gift. Unfortunately, we’re not currently accepting anything that’s not on our registry. We hope you can understand. _

 

_ Love from, _

 

_ Barry and Iris _

 

“Wow,” Oliver whispers under his breath, staring at the curt note. It’s uncomfortably formal, full of nice words that ring somehow false based on the contents and the tone.

 

The longer Oliver stares at it, the angrier he becomes.

 

They’d spent a long time picking out this gift. Felicity had wanted to get Barry and Iris something more personal than the items they’d seen on the registry. She’d thought Iris would appreciate the nod to how they’d met at Jitters. How they’d first bonded over their love of all things caffeinated. How they’d spent countless afternoons drinking countless lattes and talking about their hopeless but loving superhero boyfriends. On top of that, she knew her friend had always been bemoaning how much coffee cost her every week. So Oliver and Felicity had decided that a nice, high end espresso machine would be a good gift; one that would save Iris and Barry some money down the road.

 

Apparently, they hadn’t liked the gift as much as Oliver and Felicity had thought they would….

 

But to actually  _ return it  _ to them? With the world’s most passive aggressive note attached to it?

 

Oliver’s about ready to open his mouth and complain about their so called “friends”...but then he sees the look on his wife’s face and he just  _ can’t. _

 

“I really thought she’d like it,” Felicity says quietly. “She’d been telling me for months that she’s always wanted a good espresso machine, and this is one of the best ones out there.”

 

“I know, honey,” Oliver says softly, setting the notecard down on the kitchen island and wishing more than anything that he had heat vision so he could burn it to ashes.

 

“I know it wasn’t on their registry, but I figured they just had too many other things they wanted more. I didn’t think she’d actually….”

 

Felicity trails off, staring at the espresso machine, and Oliver wishes he could melt the damn thing with heat vision, too. Hell, if Barry was in front of him right now he’d melt  _ him  _ with heat vision.

 

“Felicity….” Oliver trails off, not sure what to say. He closes the distance between them and slowly wraps his arm around her waist, pressing his side up against hers. She doesn’t pull away, and so Oliver presses in even closer, bending down and kissing the top of her head gently. “This was a  _ very  _ thoughtful gift. Barry and Iris….”

 

He pauses, thinking hard about what he could say to help her feel better. He doesn’t really appreciate the gesture, and he’s practically  _ aching _ to find an excuse to put another arrow in Barry, but that’s not going to help Felicity.

 

Finally, he settles on the right words.

 

“Our friends have been through a lot. Having their wedding crashed by Nazis was a hell of an ordeal. A lot of planning went into their wedding, and it didn’t go how they wanted. Maybe, with the wedding registry, they were just really hoping that things would go according to plan for once? I don’t think we should take it personally.”

 

_ Yeah, fat chance of that happening,  _ Oliver thinks to himself, but of course he keeps his mouth shut. Instead he runs his hand up and down Felicity’s arm soothingly, hoping to comfort her.

 

After some thinking, Felicity looks up at him and nods. Then she sighs deeply, leaning into him and resting her head on his chest.

 

“You’re probably right,” she says quietly.

 

But she turns her gaze back to the box, looking at it sadly, and it’s clear she’s still upset.

 

And that look on her face is something that Oliver just won’t stand for.

 

Oliver Queen will be _ damned  _ if he lets some stupid espresso machine upset his wife like this.

 

Suddenly, an idea comes to him, and Oliver feels himself smile.

 

He’s going to turn this whole mess around.

 

“You know what? Let’s keep it,” Oliver says brightly. He steps away from Felicity and puts one hand on top of the box, turning back around to look at her.

 

“What?”

 

“Let’s keep it,” he repeats. “I mean, our coffeemaker is great and all, but you said it yourself: this is one of the best espresso machines out there, and I think we deserve something nice.”

 

He picks the box up and moves into the kitchen, already scoping out the best place to put their new toy. 

 

“Oliver….”

 

Felicity sounds unsure, but Oliver just smiles and puts the box down on the counter behind the island before moving some things around.

 

“I’ll write them a check for the cost of the machine and we’ll keep it. It’ll be our wedding present to ourselves.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, hon,” Felicity says, but she laughs softly, and he knows he’s getting through to her. 

 

Finally, he moves one last item from the counter in front of him to the island behind him. Then he turns back to the box and pushes it back against the wall.

 

“Perfect,” he says, clapping his hands together with satisfaction. “Right next to the coffeemaker. Now we can have espresso or lattes or macchiatos or anything our hearts desire.”

 

Felicity looks at the box, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

 

“It does look good there,” she says under her breath, and Oliver tries not to smile as she considers his proposal.

 

Finally, she crosses her arms over her chest, takes a long, deep breath, and smiles up at him.

 

“Okay. Let’s keep it.”

 

Oliver beams at her, then bends down and plants a soft kiss on her cheek. Before he can pull away, she turns her face toward his, pressing their lips together. Oliver smiles into the kiss, reaching down to wrap his arms around her back and pull her in closer as she reaches up grabs his shoulders, doing the same.

 

When they finally stop for air, Felicity rubs her nose against his. Oliver sighs in contentment, eyes drifting shut as he kisses the tip of her nose and pulls away, resting his forehead against hers.

 

“Thank you,” she whispers softly. 

 

Without a word, Oliver kisses her forehead, pouring all the love he feels for her into the gesture. When he pulls back, he opens his eyes and looks down at her, and his heart actually skips a beat at the depth of emotion he finds in her eyes, gazing back up at him lovingly.

 

When his heart feels like it's beating normally again, he turns away from her to look at the espresso machine again, wrapping one arm around her lower back and pulling her close.

 

“You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve had something that wasn’t just black coffee. What do you say we set this up and you can make me something?”

 

And when Felicity actually bounces up and down a few times next to him, Oliver knows he’s done good.

 

They take a good thirty minutes setting up the machine and reading the instructions. Oliver lets her do most of the work - since she’s the java expert - but he supervises and helps however he can.

 

As Felicity reads the instructions out loud, Oliver wanders off to look through the cupboards. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, he finally finds what he’s looking for.

 

“Got ‘em!” he says triumphantly.

 

Felicity stops reading as he places a small box down on the counter and pulls out a set of four espresso cups with matching plates.

 

“I didn’t even know you  _ had _ demitasse cups, Oliver.”

 

Oliver grins, putting the last saucer under the fourth cup so they can admire the delicate white porcelain cups and the simple leaf design painted on them with real silver.

 

“They’ve been passed down in my family for ages. My parents never used them much, but I always liked to look at them when I was little. I took them out of storage when I moved in here.”

 

Felicity smiles, running a fingertip along the edge of one of the small cups.

 

“You know, cups this nice...well, they deserve the best coffee, don’t they?”

 

Oliver frowns, unsure of where exactly she’s going with this.

 

“I guess, but Felicity-”

 

“Hold that thought,” she says, taking a step back from the counter before standing on her tiptoes and giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

 

She heads out of the kitchen, hurrying over to the coatrack by the door so she can throw on her jacket.

 

“Felicity-”

 

“Wash those glasses and keep reading the instructions. I want you to be an expert by the time I get back.”

 

“But-”

 

“Hop to it, husband!”

 

Oliver can help himself. He laughs.

 

“Yes, dear,” he teases gently. Then he picks up the glasses and takes them to the sink to do as his wife has requested.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver’s read through the entire instruction book, and the curiosity is killing him. 

 

He’s just started to read the French directions out loud (turns out exactly  _ none _ of the French he took in school has stuck with him) when Felicity finally comes home.

 

“I’m back!” she announces, dropping her purse on the table by the door and shrugging off her jacket.

 

“Back from  _ where, _ exactly?” Oliver asks with a laugh. “You never said where you were going.”

 

She moves over to him, a skip in her step, and the sight of her happiness almost makes Oliver grateful that their “friends” in Central City decided to return their wedding gift.

 

“You know that little Italian bakery three blocks down?” 

 

“Over by the bookstore?”

 

“Uh huh. Well, I figured an espresso machine this nice deserved some quality coffee. They have some really good beans there, imported from all over the world, and you can grind them fresh. So I picked a couple different varieties and ground up some sample size bags so we can try a bunch and see what we like.”

 

She’s already started depositing some small bags on the counter - each with a little label stuck to its side, so they can learn about the types of coffee as they try them- and her enthusiasm warms Oliver’s heart. As she puts the last bag on the counter and turns to look at him, he presses a fond kiss against the top of her head, unable to stop himself.

 

Then he turns to the task in front of them. 

 

“Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

Oliver stops himself at three shots, but Felicity seems bound and determined to try a bit of every type of bean she’s bought. 

 

After her sixth shot, Oliver would swear he can actually see her eyes bugging out of her head as she puts the cup down on the counter and starts furiously taking notes on the sample - this one from Cuba.

 

“I like it, I like it a lot, it’s smooth but not too smooth, and it’s got a great flavor, earthy but not like ‘dirt’ earthy, you know?” She pauses for half a second to read the label she affixed to the bag at the store. “ ‘Subtle notes of cherry,’ yeah, I definitely get that. And it’s not too acidic which is great, too much acid really does a number on your stomach,  _ oh boy _ , let me tell you.”

 

Oliver bites his lip, trying so hard to keep from laughing. She’s talking a mile a minute and she clearly has no idea. A few strands of hair drift out of her ponytail as she takes furious notes on bean variety number six and debates outloud what score to give the espresso she’s just sampled….

 

...and as he watches her, Oliver feels himself falling even more in love with her.

 

It’s something he never believes is possible...right until it happens yet again.

 

And as he sits at the kitchen island and watches Felicity chew on the tip of her red pen - her nose scrunched up in thought and her feet swinging underneath her from caffeine jitters - it hits Oliver, harder than ever before, that this is  _ forever. _

 

He’s going to spend the rest of his life falling deeper in love with Felicity Smoak every day. 

 

And Oliver knows that nothing else in the world could make him happier than that.

 

He watches her continue to write, and he knows he probably has the dopiest look on his face right now, but he honestly couldn’t care less, because she’s the cutest damn thing he’s ever seen.

 

Finally, Felicity sits up and drops her pen, pumping her fist in the air. 

 

“Yes! This is clearly the winner so far. I’m gonna have another cup, are you sure you don’t want to try this one, Oliver, it’s really really good,” she rambles, turning to him as she stands. She doesn’t wait for him to answer, clearly fiending for her next shot. Oliver chuckles warmly, then stands from his seat and follows her back to the espresso machine.

 

“I’ve had enough, Felicity. And I think-” he reaches out and grabs the cup from her before she can put it back under the machine “-that you have, too, hon.” He moves to the sink and deposits her cup inside it next to his.

 

“Oh, you think I’ve had enough, do you?” She takes a step closer to him and pushes her finger against his chest. “Listen here,  _ mister _ ,” she says, poking him hard in the chest for emphasis, and Oliver lets out the softest “ow” in protest. She pokes him over and over as she speaks. “I’m my own boss and I say I haven’t had enough at all, not nearly enough, no sir, I will TELL YOU when I’ve had enough!”

 

She stops suddenly, and Oliver finds that she’s managed to push him right up against the kitchen island. The length of her body is pressed up tight to his, and when she takes a long, deep breath, her breasts push against his chest. Suddenly it feels like the temperature in the room just shot up twenty degrees. Felicity’s gone from being downright adorable to ridiculously  _ hot  _ in about .5 seconds, and yeah, he should really be used to that by now, but he’s not and he probably never will be.

 

Then she pulls away from him, and Oliver practically moans at the loss of her warmth.

 

Her cheeks flame red, a combination of the caffeine and possibly embarrassment and maybe something  _ more. _

 

“Maybe I  _ have  _ had enough,” she admits.

 

Oliver chuckles. “ _ Maybe?” _ he teases.

 

“Okay, definitely. I’ve  _ definitely _ had enough,” she concedes. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

 

Oliver smirks at her.

 

“Or….”

 

Without warning, he grabs Felicity’s shoulders, spins her around, and gently pushes her back up against the kitchen island.

 

“Maybe I do?” he whispers, his voice deepening, and Felicity’s eyes go wide as she catches his meaning. 

 

“Oliv-”

  
He doesn’t let her finish, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She moans against him, opening her mouth to his.

 

The kiss is long and intense, and when Oliver pulls away she’s panting heavily in his arms. 

 

“Oliver...oh,  _ wow _ ,” she gasps, trailing her hands up his arms. “If I’d known a few shots of espresso could rile you up this much I would’ve bought an espresso machine  _ years ago.” _

 

Oliver moves in to kiss her again, but she keeps talking. 

 

“You know, this was a really great gift. I think Barry and Iris would have been lucky to have this.”

 

“Felicity.”

 

“As a matter of fact, I think-”

 

“Felicity!”

 

“What?” 

 

Oliver shudders, taking a long, deep breath to calm himself, because he has a raging hard on and the last thing he wants to do is talk about their friends in Central City

 

“You’re right,” he agrees, kissing her softly for emphasis. “This was a good gift, and our friends would have been very lucky to have it. But I don’t want to talk about Barry and Iris anymore.”

 

He leans over and kisses the spot under her ear that drives her crazy, and she moans loudly, her body relaxing under his. She grabs his shoulders and holds on tight as he sucks on her neck gently. Then he reaches under her skirt, grabs her hips, and lifts her up onto the counter.

 

She gasps as her ass hits the cold countertop, and she spreads her legs so Oliver can press his body up against hers, his desire for her hot and heavy against her thigh.

 

Without another word, Felicity throws her arms around Oliver’s neck and kisses him fiercely.

 

He takes her right there on the kitchen counter, the sound of panting and shouts of each other’s names filling the coffee scented air.

 

When he pulls out of her a few minutes later, she whines in protest, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Oliver’s legs are trembling underneath him, but he uses his grip on the edge of the counter to hold him up as he comes down.

 

Eventually, Felicity nuzzles her nose against his neck, and Oliver sighs with contentment, moving his hands off the counter and wrapping his arms around her waist instead.

 

Suddenly, Felicity chuckles against his neck and Oliver pulls away to look at her curiously.

 

“What?”

  
“Nothing,” she says with a smile. “It’s just...I  _ really _ like our late Christmas present.”

 

Oliver chuckles back, and he kisses the side of her head, smiling against her skin.

 

“It’s our wedding gift to ourselves...and yeah, I like it, too. Maybe we should send them a Thank You card.”

 

“Like a ‘Thank You for Rejecting Our Gift’ card? Do you think Hallmark makes those?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

_...the end... _

 

_ (for what it’s worth, Oliver and Felicity end up loving their new espresso machine A LOT, because for some reason, every time they use it to make espresso they both get ridiculously horny, and more often than not this leads to sex. the end.) _

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this turned out to be amazingly cathartic, and I'm really happy with how it turned out.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, reviews feed my soul.


End file.
